Master Planner
Planning Room - Combaticon Base - North America A large room, big enough to contain the four Combaticons and their leader, in addition to the large holographic projection table sitting in the middle of the room. A long metal bench runs all the way across the room to give those in the room a good deal of room to move from bench to bench while giving attendees a view of the surface of the table and the flatscreen embedded into the far wall. In sharp contrast to the high end technological equipment and the spartan military seating there stands a vending machine bearing a picture of a gumby seeker downing a can of Energon and the legend EnerCola beneath and the ubiquitous pin up. Contents: Vortex Onslaught Onslaught's Office Thunderwing. The DJD. At glance in any direction at any of the screens, solid or holo, or the datapads or the huge table... that is all that's over the entire planning room. Hell, every single bit of information that could be obtained about this collection of dangerous enemies has been compiled in this location. Whether everything is true and accurate, that has yet to be determined. But it is here and Onslaught is standing in the middle of all of it. He looks frustrated. And angry. And determined. And a bunch of other stuff all at the same time. ... this plan is not coming together. Yet. Blast Off walks in the room, looking about as unhappy as Onslaught does... though for some similar and some very different reasons. The DJD images cause him to pause momentarily, briefly reaching a hand to touch subconsciously at his face... then he continues in, coming to turn and lean, back against the wall in a huff, arms crossed. Then he simply glares at Onslaught. His demeanor is more insolent than usual towards his Commander. Vortex looks rather cheery as he follows Blast Off, ignoring all personal bubbles. And doesn't understand why everyone's so glum, nor does he know why Blast Off is headed in here, as Tex wanted to show him his sweet sofa elsewhere. But his sunny disposition quickly fades when he sees Helex on one of the screens, and points accusingly. "That... that piece of scrap! When I get my hands on him - ! Oooh!" "Touch anything and /you'll/ be a piece of scrap." Onslaught says this without even looking in the direction of the Combaticons. He knew they were coming before they did. "Both of you." He moves around his immediate area, clearly swiping through holoscreens in search of something. He's probably trying to line up weaknesses or points to exploit. Anything to help him create a plan to put a stop to the DJD. Oh and Thunderwing too, he supposes. "That includes my walls." is added before Onslaught frowns at the latest screen in front of him and gives it a swipe. "What." It's an annoyed non-question tossed at Blast Off since he's being overly huffy and attention-needy. Blast Off gives Vortex a glare, too. He's in a bad mood, and doesn't want to be bothered by the pesky 'copter. He's got a 100,000 shanix bounty on his head and just *might* have brought down the wrath of the cosmos onto Cybertron- for all he knows. And by *helping* a filthy Quintesson, no less. Yes, that will go over REALLY well if anyone finds out... and apparently they DID. Though he's managed to deny it mostly- so far. On top of that, he's got the usual Command issues, insubordination and other things to deal with, femme troubles (always the femme troubles- how does this keep happening to someone who keeps proclaiming he wants to be alone)? Oh- and then there's his *Commander*... Blast off doesn't like being told what to do... never has. But he did choose to follow Onslaught long ago. But right now... lately, he's been wondering why. All Onslaught does is insult him. And now... now he's been acting... strangely in Blast Off's opinion. Upon Onslaught's order to stop leaning on walls, the shuttle at first instinctively pushes himself away. For a moment. Then, insolently, he huffs and leans right back on the wall.... testing Onslaught deliberately. "You have been acting oddly lately." Vortex twitches as he is wont to do, when Onslaught orders them not to touch things. He stares at Blast Off with incredulity at the apparent defiance, and for once appears conflicted. But boss is boss, and boss is law. Vortex shuffles to where he's far away from everything, suddenly nervous, picking at his blades that shudder every so often. Onslaught stops. Right there. In the middle of the room. And raises his hands to point at EVERY FRAGGING THING. "It is called being prepared. You should look into it. Instead of wasting time assassinating those who do not matter." Onslaught rolls his optics and immediately looks back at all the screens and such that are surrounding him. "So. You /will/ excuse me if I don't care to play into your ineffectual guessing games. They are tired and they are pointless and they are a complete waste of time and energy." Onslaught swipes through some pictures of Nebulos and their battle there. He then peers through the holoscreen right at Blast Off. "Get to the point or get out." Blast Off glances at Vortex, thinking, *suck up*... Then blinks as Onslaught reacts. Though he maintains his position leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "I DID NOT.." He almost finishes saying *assassinate that person*... but then he'd be outright lying to Onslaught and something stops him. So... he just keeps silent instead. Until Onslaught demands "the point". Blast Off then pushes away from the wall and takes a step towards Onslaught. "The point? The point is... is it wise to constantly belittle and berate your own warriors? Your own team? Your opinion of us seems to get worse by the cycle. I have noticed it... even the other Decepticons notice it... like on the radio tonight." He tilts his head, and continues, "And on top of that, while your opinion of us seems to be rapidly going downhill, your opinion of the Decepticons in general seems to be heading through the roof! You bow and kowtow to the likes of-of... Buzzsaw! That made me want to /purge/..." He stops. "YOU are BETTER than that. We ALL are better than that. Is it the Loyalty program? Is it a... plan you're forming? (Primus I hope so...) Or have you just decided Galvatron is the path of the Future?" He stands there defiantly, awaiting an answer. ".../Commander/." Vortex shrugs helplessly at Blast Off. It's clear he's not sure what to think here. When Blast Off goes off on his tirade, Tex moves and reaches as if to try and hold him back or at least distract him, but loses his will at the last second and shrinks back into the shadows, wringing his hands. "Blast Off," he mumbles, "Insurrection is pain. Galvatron-will..." he continues to mutter incoherently between his words, red optics beneath his visor darting back and forth, "I-if-there-is-discord-within-teams..." "You asked for it." Onslaught takes a step back and reaches down onto the datapad that is controlling the room. He presses a button and every single one of the screen switches to an alphanumeric mega-plan that details out every single manner in which to usurp power from the Decepticon Command Structure. The details are so to the letter and on the nosecone that it could be nothing short of compiled over hundreds or even thousands of years. "Here we have what I think of Galvatron and his Decepticons. And what I'm going to do once I can actively act upon any of these scenarios. As you like to constantly point out, we are hindered by a subpar loyalty program that keeps us from doing what we are designed to do against those that are afraid of us and our superiority. However, instead of constantly whining about it to anyone that will listen and drowning my sorrows in enerwine, thus hindering my already lackluster abilities, like some shuttles I know, I have been doing something more productive with my time. Like preparing for the moment these programs are no longer hindering our progress." Onslaught doesn't even wait for Blast Off to try and mount a rebuttal and holds up a finger. He brings that finger back down onto his datapad and presses another button, activating another change in screenery. This time, there are over 7,182,928 detailed scenarios and schemes that all revolve around possible removal/neutralization/etc of the Loyalty Program. There are even detailed reports on the Program itself, which are vague but they are there. "Oh look. What's this? An incredible amount of data on the only thing that is stopping me from taking the Decepticons for myself and running them into the ground as they need to be and putting an end to his petty scuffle with the Autobots. But, again, I am unable to act upon any of these foolproof plots to rid us of this foolish Glass Ceiling that I cannot shatter. Not for lack of ability or trying, mind you. But you don't get to know that. Because you talk too much. To those that you shouldn't." Once again, Onslaught raises a finger to shut Blast Off up at the pass and then presses another button on his datapad. The screens flip again and show off various highlight reel footage of the Combaticons in action against Decepticons, Autobots, Neutrals, Whatever... all in a good light. There is more of this stuff than there is of the other two visual info-dumps combined. "Finally." Onslaught's vocal tone is calm and proud, though he doesn't look it. He continues to appear angry, since that is what his Combaticons seem to respond to the most. "I see everything you all do. I hear everything. I know /everything/. Even when you think I'm not around or not paying attention? I am. There is not a move that my Combaticons make that I don't know about. And why? Is it because I'm paranoid? Is it because I am controlling? Is it because I have a serious issue with voyeurism? No. It is because I am watching over you. Protecting you. Keeping you out of harm's way and you don't even know it." Onslaught shakes his head and tosses the datapad onto the table, letting it skid while the videos and reels of Combaticon footage continue to swarm the entire room. "I do this because you are my brothers. What Galvatron and his cronies need to see and believe is one thing. What I do, whether you know it or not, is something completely different. You see, unlike you, Blast Off, I have cleverly positioned myself into the Decepticon Empire in a moderate position that gets me just enough power to use their resources for my own personal gain, under the guise of their pitiful war. While you may have the rank and the prestige that you so desperately want from those that you 'claim' to hate, I have the true power in that they do not look at me twice. You? They watch. Like a technohawk. Because you are in their command structure. You are a liability as much as you are an asset. To them. And they will not hesitate to take you out. Only I will be there to make sure that doesn't happen." Onslaught turns and points off to a screen that shows Onslaught picking off Seeker Drones attempting to swarm a Medal Wearing Blast Off. It is labeled Scenario 267/791. Onslaught lowers his hand and turns to peer at Blast Off. "Now. Would you like to continue questioning my loyalty to my family or can I get back to work?" Blast Off waves a hand at Vortex. "I am not talking about..insurrection. Because we ..." The words are bitter and hard to say. "Because we- we /can't/... thanks to that Loyalty program. But... we don't have to LIKE it." Vortex's mumbling gets a quick, possibly concerned glance from the shuttle. "Yes... I agree, but..." And then Onslaught drops the most AMAZING RESPONSE EVER. Blast Off stops in mid-sentence. Countless images and plans are shown onscreen before him, and everytime Blast Off can even *start* to think of something to say Onslaught has another plan BEHIND a plan BEHIND a plan BEHIND a plan. And so on and so on... If Blast Off wasn't wearing a faceplate, the other Combaticons would see his jaw drop. And it stays open... right up until the end, with the Onslaught saving Blast Off from the drones. The shuttleformer just stands there in complete and utter silence, then finally actually falls backward to lean onto the wall again... not in insolence this time, but possibly... sheer shock. Onslaught has completely blown Blast Off's processor- and he can't think of a single word to say. Vortex is a little overwhelmed, his twisted mind a tad too stimulated by all of the screens and information. He almost yelps, then reins himself in and paces thrice in a circle before reaching to hook Blast Off's arm. "See! See! Come on, let's leave Onslaught alone," he insists uneasily. "Onslaught protects us, even if he hates and insults us!" "Well. That's settled." Onslaught picks up his datapad and flicks all those screens back to the Thunderwing and DJD plans. He immediately picks back up to work where he left off, as if he hadn't stopped working to pwn Blast Off back into subordination. "I don't hate any of you, by the way." Onslaught swipes through pictures of the DJD and frowns as he says all this. "But /they/ don't need to know that, do they?" And yeah. Processor's Blown. Because even -that- is a plan. Be Prepared, Glitches. Blast Off looks a bit dazed now, and can only feebly protest as Vortex latches onto his arm, something the standoffish shuttle usually doesn't tolerate. He blinks at the helicopter as Vortex tugs on his arm. "Uh.... yeah." He can't even quite sound as "proper" as usual. He allows Vortex to pull him away from the wall. Looking over as Onslaught speaks again, the shuttle nods- all his former anger completely evaporated, replaced by ... is it awe? He almost seems... meek. "..I...I knew that,... really." Well, /almost/. Blast Off then almost begins following Vortex out... but then he stops, pulling his arm away from his teammate. "Wait. I... I..." A little more of his usual demeanor resurfaces, though his anger is spent. "Onslaught, I.." He looks uncomfortable, not wanting to admit this... but Onslaught ought to know. Onslaught and his teammates are the only ones he ever WOULD admit this to. And even then- only because he's worried there is real danger at hand- for Cybertron itself. "I... did assassinate that Galactic Council Member. For..." Unhappy pause. "...Archeonix. I may have... " Another very long pause. "..well, I..." Admitting a mistake is sooo hard. "It might not have been... my finest moment." He looks down on the floor miserably, then back. "But you should know. Maybe you already do. Just... be aware that our planet may have... visitors. I.." He looks like he'd like to say more but he falls silent. Vortex is surprised when he's not smacked over the helmet for tugging at Blast Off, but the shuttle ends up pulling away anyway. Tex grunts in annoyance. Then Blast Off reveals some secrets, and his visor broadens, "Holy... for a Quintesson!" He claps his hands over his audials. "Are you crazy!?" Pause. "I knew that expert shot was yours." Nod. Onslaught raises what looks like a small remote and presses a single button. A screen drops down from above and it shows an incredibly detailed plan that looks as though it has been contingency'd in triplicate. Thrice. With some stank on it. This plan also has a label. How To Save Cybertron In Six Easy Steps. Onslaught doesn't even look up from his working and just allows both Blast Off and Vortex to make with their exiting adventure out of his face! Blast Off winces slightly at Vortex's comments. "It's.. not like I *like* Quintessons, I just... well... I sort of... owed him something." Blast off looks supremely uncomfortable. "But a least now he owes ME." (If he'll pay as he said... that remains to be seen...) "NO, I'm not crazy, I... just, welll..." His words trail off. At least he HOPES he's not crazy. He continues to look uncomfortable until Tex mentions the shot. At that Blast Off's smugness returns, and he even makes a half-hearted, not-entirely unfriendly swipe at Vortex's helmt. "Of COURSE I made that shot, TSK! LIke anyone else COULD..." Then Onslaught drops the screen on how to save Cybertron. The shuttle stares... then immediately scans the plan to the last detail for his own records. With a thankful nod, he then follows Vortex out of the room. <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Blast Off. We need to talk." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "....Yes?" <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Not over comms. Somewhere secure." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "....You're not trying to collect that bounty still, are you?" <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Not yet." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "..." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "...Very well." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "It's in your best interest." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "....Right." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Don't be so damn pretentious." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off huffs. <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "You have a lot to learn. Allow me to educate you." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "Oh, I do, do I?" <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Would you can it already?? Meet me at the follwing coordinates. <>" <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "In a bit, I am in a meeting..." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Well wrap it up already, Grand Exalted Holy One of Airspaceness. We're on a time table. Every cycle you waste is a cycle someone's coming for that bounty." <'Decepticon'> Blast Offsighs <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing HUFF <'Decepticon'> Harrow says, "You're both insufferable." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "And you're a glitch. Buzz off." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Next time I want your opinion I'll bash your head against a wall and look at it myself." <'Decepticon'> Harrow says, "Ugh!" <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "By the way, when are you on duty anyway?" <'Decepticon'> Harrow says, "What, you want a lollipop now!?" <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "I wouldn't say no." <'Decepticon'> Harrow says, "FRAG YOU YOU FRAGGING $#%@FACE!" <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Ditto." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Maybe accounting is more you line o' work." <'Decepticon'> Harrow says, "If it keeps me from getting my head bashed into a wall, I'll look into it." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "Well I'll still be around, so." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "Now what is this all about? Blitzwing, insulting the medics is not a particularly wise course of action.. not when you may depend on them for your life later...." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "I'm not the one with the bounty on their head, Blast Off. Remember that." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "...." <'Decepticon'> Blitzwing says, "S'what I thought. Consider yourself enlightened. Are you done in your little circle jerk now?" <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "My /meeting/ is finished. I'm heading your way. And this had better be worth the trouble...."